


I am Sherlocked

by Lyv3Wyr3



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Fluff, How do I tag?, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, OOC, Sherlock is smitten, john is confused lol, kind of, no beta we die like men, whats a tag?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-23
Updated: 2020-02-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:54:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22855807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lyv3Wyr3/pseuds/Lyv3Wyr3
Summary: He didn’t need to decide anything about you to know why you were here though. He knew the look in your eye all too well. And if that wasn’t enough, you flinched when John had gestured to you. You had been abused. And that caused his blood to boil.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/Reader, Sherlock Holmes/You
Comments: 1
Kudos: 109





	I am Sherlocked

**Author's Note:**

> Ok so this is pretty angsty in the beginning, but I swear it gets better -w- hope you enjoy this garbage. 
> 
> -author out

You walked briskly down the street, your heels clacking loudly every step you took. You were walking to the house of the famed detective Sherlock Holmes. You pulled your collar up as you saw someone stare at the deep purple mark on your neck.

Many would say that Sherlock is a cold sociopath who couldn’t care less about the lives of others. You, however, knew better than that. It wasn’t that he didn’t care for others it’s that he no longer could.

He didn’t talk much of his years in college. Not to the people who were close to him. Not even to John. But you knew. You knew what had happened. After all you loved right next to him. You clearly remember the shouting. The sound of broken bottles clashing against the ground (or someone’s head). The sound of skin harshly meeting skin. The sound of pain being inflicted on him either verbally or physically.

One night you heard him with her to put down the knife, and that’s when you acted. You opened the door which had been left unlocked in all the commotion and that’s when you saw a bleeding Sherlock on the ground with his flat-mate. You acted quickly, grabbing an iron skillet from the stove and using all your might to slam it against her head. She fell to the ground with a loud ‘thump’.

The man who had previously been wounded on the ground looked up to her. “W-who are you?” He asked fighting (and failing) to keep his voice steady. You gave him a kind smile.

“I’m (Y/N). (Y/N) (L/N),” you began kindly, “And I’m here to help,” you promised. You reached out a hand to help him out, but pulled it back when he flinched. “Do you need help up?” You asked patiently. He shook his head keeping his eyes trained on your hands. “Okay. Then I won’t get any closer. I’m going to call the police. Is that okay?” You asked. He nodded running a bloody hand through his hair.

You dialed 911 on your phone and in no time they arrived. An officer interviewed you while an emt worker (what were those called again?) worked on convincing Sherlock to let her evaluate him. “He would probably be more comfortable with a man helping him, Miss,” you called to her. Sherlock’s eyes flickered up to you for a moment before he nodded his head to agree with you. After that night you never saw him again. He moved and you tried to forget about the whole ordeal. Problem was that you couldn’t forget him.

Then one day you found out that he had gone on with his life and became the infamous Sherlock Holmes. You were so proud of him for moving on and not letting his past prevent him from having a future, but you never had the courage to go say hi and see if he remembered you. After all, it would probably just bring up old memories.

That is... until your abusive Fiancé went off on a killing spree. 

You hadn’t known the kind of person he was. You knew he was hurting you, but not anyone else. That is until you saw him. You had gone out at night to pick up some medicine for your headache when you saw him and a few of his shady friends brutally kill someone. He was covered in blood, smiling maliciously. A look you knew all too well. He looked up and his gaze met yours. Then you ran. You ran all the way home. Has he recognized you? Please god let him have not recognized you.

That night when he got home you had already gone to bed. You heard the door open and you pretended to be asleep, praying that when he got to the bedroom he wouldn’t see how much your form was shaking. You were engaged to a murderer.

I know you’re awake (Y/N),” he began, sober for once, “and I know it was you in that alley,” he said lowly and darkly, almost as if it was a threat. Scratch that. It was a threat. “Get out of bed you useless girl!” Ye yelled pulling the covers off the bed.

“Please,” she pleaded, “I won’t tell anyone, just don’t-“ she yelped as he grabbed her by her hair and pulled her out of the bed.

“Dang right you won’t tell anyone! If you do then I will make sure your death is a painful one!” He exclaimed kicking her in the stomach.

After what felt like hours he got bored of hurting you and went to the kitchen for a drink. You went to the bathroom to take a shower and dress your wounds. As you re-entered the bedroom you heard sobs. You noticed the many empty bottles and looked up to see your fiancé on the bed sobbing. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry (Y/N). I was so afraid that you would tell someone, that you would leave me and it just made me so... so mad!” He said getting up and moving closer to you.

You began matching each of his steps closer with a step back, “it’s okay, I would never leave you. I promise. I,” You began knowing the words would sting as they left your mouth seeing as you did not mean them, “I love you,” you said with a fake smile. He smiled and you let out a sigh of relief. That was a good sign. He grabbed your hand and led you to your bed.

“Goodnight love,” he said holding you close and squeezing you. He was pressing on a rather large bruise and you did you best to bite back a hiss of pain.

“Goodnight.”

And that was why you were going to Sherlock. You couldn’t really go to anyone else because you didn’t believe they would understand. You left as soon as you heard the door close signaling your fiancé had gone to work. You headed to the address you had got from the internet. You knocked on the door and felt the tears streaming down you face at full force now. Your disheveled state would embrace you on any other day, but today that wasn’t the case. You were quite frankly too afraid to care.

A short blond man came to the door. Did you have the wrong address? He looked at you with obvious concern shown in his eyes. He probably noticed the black eye you had portly covered up with some concealer on the way out. “I-I’m here to see Sherlock Holmes,” you stated.He gestured for you to enter. That’s when you heard soft violin music coming from another room. Well at least that hadn’t changed all these years. He still loved playing violin.

“Sherlock!” The blond yelled. His loud voice caused you to visibly flinch and he gave you an apologetic smile.

“Watson I was in the middle of my favorite piece. We’ve discussed that you not bother me while I’m playing it,” he griped, his voice a monotone, as he descended the stairs, “Now, what could you possible wan-“ He cut himself as he saw you, eyes widening if only for a second. Though his face remained mostly expressionless you could have swore you saw a trace of recognition trace his sharp facial features. Your eyes met his for only a moment before you looked down at the ground and wiped your face trying to force your tears to stop falling.

He was frozen still. It was her. The girl from all those years ago. He had thought he would never see her again. He had never even gotten the chance to thank her. “(Y/N)...?” He asked softly. John look at him quizzically. How exactly did he know your name?

You smiled weakly and looked up. He did remember you. “Hello Sherlock,” you said barely above a whisper. His eyes scanned your body. He then started making deductions. One eye was more swollen and very poorly covered with concealer. Probably done in a rush in an attempt to get out of the house quickly. One leg is favored more than the other. One arm is being held away from her side as to avoid putting pressure on the area. Collar is flipped up, probably to avoid showing an injury on the neck. You are wearing adequate clothing, so you shouldn’t be shaking as much as you are.

He didn’t need to deduce anything about you to know why you were here though. He knew the look in your eye all too well. And if that wasn’t enough, you flinched when John had gestured to you. You had been abused. And that caused his blood to boil.

“Who is he?” Sherlock asked, his voice uncharacteristically soft. You weren’t surprised that he had already figured you out.

“His name is Andrew Johnson,” you began shakily, “and he is a very bad man...”

“Wouldn’t the police have been a more... well suited place to go for this particular case?” John asked carefully. He didn’t want to all out state that she needed to go to them instead, but it was true. Sherlock sent him a glare.

“Yes, but he isn’t just hurting me...” you began shakily. “Last night I saw him in an alley and he was,” you began to shiver more violently.

Sherlock robotically moves closer to you and stiffly put a hand on your shoulder. This made Johns jaw drop. “It’s okay,” he reassured, his normally cold voice soft when speaking to you. He was acting weird. And it was really starting to worry his light haired friend. “Take your time.”

You went on to describe what happened between you and your fiancé both in the alley and at home. You could tell that once you started explaining what happened to you Sherlock stiffened. He was probably remembering his own experiences. John handed you a blurry picture that looked as if it had been taken from a convenience store camera. “Is this him?” He asked. You nodded. He and Sherlock exchanged glances. This was the man that they had been trying to catch.

“Thank you Miss (L/N),” Sherlock began, “we will have him arrested shortly.”

“Is there anywhere you can stay?” John asked.

You shook your head before letting out a humorless laugh, “I have no where else to go.”

Sherlock’s eyes flickered from you to John then back to you. He looked as if he was mulling something over in his mind. “You can stay with us,” he offered after a while. You looked at him puzzled. It was nothing compared to the dumbfounded look that John was giving him. “It’s the least I could do after what you’ve done for me.”

John narrowed his eyes. “Can someone let me in on what’s happening here?” He asked.

Sherlock barely spared him a glance before his icy blue eyes locked back onto yours. You looked away from his intense stare and nodded. “Thank you.”

A few weeks had passed. Your fiancé had been arrested, but you stayed with Sherlock. You didn’t feel safe living on your own just yet. Sherlock acted the same as he always had, only every now and then you would give him these smiles and it would absolutely kill him. His heart would feel as if it was climbing out of his chest and into his throat making it hard to breathe. Though outwardly he looked fine on the inside he was slowly dying.

Not only that, but you were awfully touchy. It wasn’t much. A small touch to his shoulder to get his attention. A high five whenever he did something you deemed cool (which he would begrudgingly return). A small touch to his nose occasionally, something you called a “boop”, happened all to often. It didn’t help that it was also always accompanied by one of your signature smiles. The ones that made his breath hitch every time.

One day you threw were watching a movie. He had objected at first, but after you give him the puppy dog eyes he was basically putty in your hands. Once the movie started he say the way you drooled over the main villain of the movie. His name was something like Loki? He hadn’t heard. All he cared about was that you were getting all heart-eyed and smiley for someone that wasn’t him, and that (for some strange reason made him upset.

He growled and looked away, jealousy obviously etched onto his face. You heard his little outburst and turned to him puzzled. “Sherlock, something wrong?” You asked sweetly giving him that god dang smile.

“No, everything is just dandy,” he replied sarcastically. You giggled

“Is somebody jealous?”you teased giving his hand a gentle squeeze and causing shivers to go down his spine.

“O-of course not, why would you suggest such a thing, (Y/N)!” He replied. You simply rolled your eyes and laid your head into his shoulder as your fingers intertwined themselves with his.

“Don’t worry...” you began softly, quietly. Unsure if you even wanted to say this out loud.“I don’t have feelings for anyone, no one except you,” you stuttered. There. It was out in the open. There was no going back now. When you looked into his eyes you saw a blank expression and instantly regretted your decision. It was too late to try to take it back, but you decided to try anyways,“I-I mean-“

You were cut off however by Sherlock’s surprisingly soft lips gently caressing your own.Your eyes were now opened wide as as you looked upon his tightly shut ones. You were frozen still, that is until you felt him begin to pull away. Then you tightly shut your eyes and grabbed his shirt collar pulling him back down to your lips. You felt him smile as one of his hands found their way to your face as he lightly cupped your cheek, and the other around your waist pulling you closer to him.

“Oh- for gods sake you two you’re not the only ones in here!” You heard John cray as you both pulled away breathless. You pressed your forehead to Sherlock’s. “You know, I think I’ve felt like this ever since that night we first met,” you sang.

“I as well sweet one,” he purred into your ear. He kissed you once more before turning his attention back to the movie, this time with you in his arms.

John, although still keeping his unfazed demeanor, was completely shocked. He had never seen Sherlock without his guards, but around you they all seemed to start crumbling down. He smiled as he looked at the pair of you. You seemed to look really happy around him. He knew that he loved you, but he had been unsure of your intentions in the beginning. But now he knew. Your heart was completely and totally....

Sherlocked.


End file.
